2011.
what. a. good. year.
Honestly, I have nothing to complain about. I love the lessons Jesus taught me this year. I love the relationships He has brought into my life. I love how He gave me a passion for ministry and college students and learning about cognitive neuroscience. I love how He got me plugged into a church at home and is slowly getting me plugged more into one in Fredericksburg. I love the opportunity to connect with Jesus via this blog (which, by the way is only a year old!) I love the growth that I've seen Him do inside of me. I love the prayers I've seen answered. I love the amazing women that I live with at school. The amazing professors that teach my classes. The amazing leaders in our chapter. The amazing people I've grown so close to at home...
So many blessings from the King.
And I realize just how beautiful You are and how great Your affections are for me. And oh, how He loves us, oh. Oh, how He loves us. How He loves us, oh.
But I am not mourning this New Year's Eve. 2011 wasn't a great year because of the calendar. It was a great year because of the intimacy I had (and continue to have) with Jesus. Because of the blessings that His grace so eagerly gives me each morning. 2012 will be equally as great, if not better than 2011. Because Jesus always seeks to bless. Because Jesus always wants to spend time with this daughter of His.
Yeah, He loves us. Oh how He loves us. Oh how He loves us.
Oh how He loves.
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Solitude
The Lord works in crazy ways.
Home. You know? That place I hated for so long? Home is now a place that I love. Maybe not my house all of the time. But here. In crazy, old Ewing Township. Here, at home, is where I've seen the most rapid growth in my life. This summer Jesus worked wonders in me. And I came back from fall break and Thanksgiving break on fire.
And it's happening again. I'm watching myself grow more and more in love with Jesus by the day. Falling in love at such a rapid pace. Maybe it's because I have a lot of down-time here and spend it with my Creator. I'm not living with friends and I don't have class or work to go to. I don't have assignments and deadlines.
At home Jesus forces this extrovert to learn solitude. And it has been so. good. for. my. soul.
Maybe it's because I have several wise people constantly pouring into me at home-- people who have been walking with Christ for a much longer time than I have. People that not only have a plethora of Biblical knowledge but know and love Jesus in deep ways.
Don't get me wrong. I love (love, love, love, love, LOVE) senior year. I love living in the same apartment building as my best friends. I love how they make me laugh to the point of tears daily. I love being on leadership and being a tool in Christ moving on our campus. I love my new staff worker and my weekly meetings with her. I love my major and my classes and my professors. I love a schedule to my weeks.
But when I'm forced to learn to be quiet... when I'm forced to read and reflect and journal (because really, what else is there for me to do on winter break?)... my soul finds rest in Jesus and my identity in Christ becomes so crystal clear to me.
Things are good. Life is good. I'm excited to leave for Passion 2012 on Sunday and see a ton of friends and get put on the ultimate Jesus-high. But I'm also not wishing the rest of this week to pass any faster. I like sleeping in, working out with my sister, reading with Jesus, spending time at the Downs' house, and going to church on Sundays at Calvary.
I like what the slow-paced life and time in solitude is doing for my relationship with Jesus.
I'm sure by the end of the month I'll be itching to get back and use the ways He has grown me to pour into the members of our chapter. Because He doesn't just grow me for me. He grows me so that I can then use those gifts to minister to others. To spread the Gospel. To show His glory. To make disciples of all nations.
This month at home is a recharge for my soul. He fills me up to send me out.
Home. You know? That place I hated for so long? Home is now a place that I love. Maybe not my house all of the time. But here. In crazy, old Ewing Township. Here, at home, is where I've seen the most rapid growth in my life. This summer Jesus worked wonders in me. And I came back from fall break and Thanksgiving break on fire.
And it's happening again. I'm watching myself grow more and more in love with Jesus by the day. Falling in love at such a rapid pace. Maybe it's because I have a lot of down-time here and spend it with my Creator. I'm not living with friends and I don't have class or work to go to. I don't have assignments and deadlines.
At home Jesus forces this extrovert to learn solitude. And it has been so. good. for. my. soul.
Maybe it's because I have several wise people constantly pouring into me at home-- people who have been walking with Christ for a much longer time than I have. People that not only have a plethora of Biblical knowledge but know and love Jesus in deep ways.
Don't get me wrong. I love (love, love, love, love, LOVE) senior year. I love living in the same apartment building as my best friends. I love how they make me laugh to the point of tears daily. I love being on leadership and being a tool in Christ moving on our campus. I love my new staff worker and my weekly meetings with her. I love my major and my classes and my professors. I love a schedule to my weeks.
But when I'm forced to learn to be quiet... when I'm forced to read and reflect and journal (because really, what else is there for me to do on winter break?)... my soul finds rest in Jesus and my identity in Christ becomes so crystal clear to me.
Things are good. Life is good. I'm excited to leave for Passion 2012 on Sunday and see a ton of friends and get put on the ultimate Jesus-high. But I'm also not wishing the rest of this week to pass any faster. I like sleeping in, working out with my sister, reading with Jesus, spending time at the Downs' house, and going to church on Sundays at Calvary.
I like what the slow-paced life and time in solitude is doing for my relationship with Jesus.
I'm sure by the end of the month I'll be itching to get back and use the ways He has grown me to pour into the members of our chapter. Because He doesn't just grow me for me. He grows me so that I can then use those gifts to minister to others. To spread the Gospel. To show His glory. To make disciples of all nations.
This month at home is a recharge for my soul. He fills me up to send me out.
Monday, December 26, 2011
Stink Bugs
Almost every break this school year I've found a stink bug in the curtains that hang near my bed. Gross. I do not deal with bugs. Killing ants are about the furthest I'll go because the thought of feeling it crunch sends shivers down my spine.
The other night I was home alone and found another one of these little creatures and actually made three of my friends come over and kill it for me so that I could go to sleep. This interaction quickly turned into an hour of chaos because we realized there were actually four stink bugs and none of us felt brave enough to embark on that journey. But after an hour of screaming and running we finally vacuumed them all up. It was actually a pretty hilarious evening and I kept repeating that my life needs a reality show because it is just so ridiculous. I assumed the stink bugs got in my room sometime during the summer and I never realized it because I moved back to school in August.
But then I saw another one dangling in my curtain last night. You have got to be kidding me, I thought. I called my dad to come kill it because like I said, killing it by myself was out of the question. My dad was clearly annoyed because it was the millionth time I had asked him to kill a stink bug for me in the past year. I told him about how I've been getting friends to come kill them and how this was getting out of hand. "I have to move my bed!" I told him, "I need to move it to the other side of the room because there is something about this window that keeps bringing all these bugs in. I can't sleep under it anymore." He asked me if my window was open and I said no, that I haven't touched my window since the summer and it's definitely shut. But then he lifted the blinds all the way up to the top--something I never would have thought to do.
Sure enough the window was open about an inch at the top.
I felt a little silly for not having realized that in the past six months and tried to close it but failed miserably. Then I sat back and watched my dad try and close it, but he couldn't do it either. We finally succeeded when we worked together. When he pushed up on the top part of the window and I pulled down and locked the bottom.
Sometimes, we go after the annoying bugs in our lives. We even get friends to help. We ask for prayer and accountability. And when that doesn't work we think of radical ways to "solve the problem," like avoiding it all together and moving to the other side of the room.
But the window is still open. No matter the tactic we try the bugs will still eventually get to us.
It is only when we bring the problem to our Father that He points out the root of the problem. Sin is just a surface issue. But even when we know the cause of the problem, we can't fix it on our own.
It is only when we work with our Father that the problem is solved.
Jesus cares about the bugs, but He cares more about fixing the issue at heart. He will come and kill them for me, but He doesn't want to have to do that--He would much rather there not be any bugs in the first place. When the bugs get it, even after they are killed I feel uncomfortable and can't sleep. I feel itchy and all I can think about is a creepy little stink bug crawling on me. Jesus would much rather heal me and close the window and stop the bugs from coming in altogether. That way I don't have to feel gross even weeks after the fact. That way I don't have to live in fear that it will happen again.
Jesus wants to close the gaps in the windows to make us whole. But we have to work with Him. He will point out the problem and do must of the work, but we have to lock it shut. We have to let Him in and be willing to do what He asks.
Because really, it's for our good anyway.
 |
| So that you can get a visual |
But then I saw another one dangling in my curtain last night. You have got to be kidding me, I thought. I called my dad to come kill it because like I said, killing it by myself was out of the question. My dad was clearly annoyed because it was the millionth time I had asked him to kill a stink bug for me in the past year. I told him about how I've been getting friends to come kill them and how this was getting out of hand. "I have to move my bed!" I told him, "I need to move it to the other side of the room because there is something about this window that keeps bringing all these bugs in. I can't sleep under it anymore." He asked me if my window was open and I said no, that I haven't touched my window since the summer and it's definitely shut. But then he lifted the blinds all the way up to the top--something I never would have thought to do.
Sure enough the window was open about an inch at the top.
I felt a little silly for not having realized that in the past six months and tried to close it but failed miserably. Then I sat back and watched my dad try and close it, but he couldn't do it either. We finally succeeded when we worked together. When he pushed up on the top part of the window and I pulled down and locked the bottom.
Sometimes, we go after the annoying bugs in our lives. We even get friends to help. We ask for prayer and accountability. And when that doesn't work we think of radical ways to "solve the problem," like avoiding it all together and moving to the other side of the room.
But the window is still open. No matter the tactic we try the bugs will still eventually get to us.
It is only when we bring the problem to our Father that He points out the root of the problem. Sin is just a surface issue. But even when we know the cause of the problem, we can't fix it on our own.
It is only when we work with our Father that the problem is solved.
Jesus cares about the bugs, but He cares more about fixing the issue at heart. He will come and kill them for me, but He doesn't want to have to do that--He would much rather there not be any bugs in the first place. When the bugs get it, even after they are killed I feel uncomfortable and can't sleep. I feel itchy and all I can think about is a creepy little stink bug crawling on me. Jesus would much rather heal me and close the window and stop the bugs from coming in altogether. That way I don't have to feel gross even weeks after the fact. That way I don't have to live in fear that it will happen again.
Jesus wants to close the gaps in the windows to make us whole. But we have to work with Him. He will point out the problem and do must of the work, but we have to lock it shut. We have to let Him in and be willing to do what He asks.
Because really, it's for our good anyway.
Friday, December 23, 2011
Christmas Music and Missing Mom
I've had a lot of thoughts going on in the past 24 hours and while I want to just spill them all out right now, I'll save you the word vomit and divide them up into more than one entry. For now I will post on my family situation.
Being home is hard. Christmastime is even harder. This year marks our third Christmas without my mom and the reality of her being gone is something that will never really be easy to swallow. My mom's favorite holiday was Christmas. She used to decorate the house immediately after Thanksgiving, forcing my sister and I to participate in traditions such as baking cookies and chopping down the Christmas tree. Christmas music would be playing at all times and the house always had a cinnamon or pine scented candle burning.
This year is the first year since her death that I've listened to Christmas music. It has just always been too hard for me because every time I hear those songs I picture her singing (the wrong words) at an octave far above the artist's while I slump in the back seat of the car, rolling my eyes. Some of the songs I could only listen to once because they hit far too close to home and some (like The Christmas Shoes) I will probably not venture around to listening to anytime soon. But I played a Christmas cd on several car rides and even forced myself to listen once or twice to songs that distinctly remind me of her. Praying all the while for Jesus to heal my broken heart.
A friend also lost her parent around the same time I lost my mom and I gave this friend some questions to journal through over break, with the promise that I would do the same. So this past week I journalled through the first assignment that I gave to my friend (and to myself). After pouring out my heart to Jesus for quite a bit of time, I realized that I never really allowed myself to process my mom's death. I never allowed Jesus to truly come into the situation. When faced with painful reminders, I would just say "Lord heal me" and I would shut my eyes and turn my attention away from the situation. Never giving time for it to sink in. Putting a bandage over a wound instead of stitches. Not allowing true healing to take place.
And it "healed" incorrectly. So now I need to let Jesus reopen that wound and stitch it up and let it get better in His care. I've known this for awhile but I've been too afraid to let Him open me back up. Too afraid to consciously permit Him to rip apart the fibers of skin that fused together in a very jagged and ugly manner.
But this season, I'm letting Him.
And it
hurts
like you
wouldn't believe.
This season I blew the dust off of the old Christmas cds and turned the volume up in the car.
There's a lot that's been resurfaced since I've let Jesus tear into this, including a relationship with my dad that needs a lot of TLC and mending. I realized that I've been "protecting myself" by not allowing myself to look at pictures of my mom, not allowing myself to hang out with people and their moms, and not allowing myself to talk about her. When something motherly comes up I get angry and turn the other way, pushing it out of sight and out of mind. Slapping a bandaid on it and changing the subject.
Most importantly, I've realized that I am (still) so angry with myself. Full of regret and sorrow and self-hate. I'm so angry for the way I treated my mother my whole life. So angry that the Lord allowed her to die before I got saved. Before Jesus transformed my heart. Before I was able (by His love) to treat her the way I should have for the (almost) 19 years I had her in my life. Every word I would say to her now would be a sobbing apology and a plea for forgiveness.
These are just a few things I've been learning as I'm allowing Jesus to rip open this scar once again. I caused this to heal wrong because I never dealt with it correctly. I never truly brought my pain to the Lord, even though I heard Him begging me to give my burdens to Him (Matthew 11:30). But this season I listened to Christmas music. This week I journalled the answers to difficult questions. This night I asked my dad to meet His girlfriend (whom two years ago I told him I never wanted to see). I'm handing my pain over to Jesus. Surrendering this dark part of my heart to Him.
I am moving forward.
The scar is being opened again.
And I'm asking Jesus to heal it.
"He sent out his word and healed them, and delivered them from their destruction (Psalm 107:20)." Even though my mishaps in dealing with my mom's death caused some destruction in my heart, I'm allowing Jesus to heal me. Through His word. Through His love. Through His truth.
This, friends, is a Christmas miracle in my life.
Being home is hard. Christmastime is even harder. This year marks our third Christmas without my mom and the reality of her being gone is something that will never really be easy to swallow. My mom's favorite holiday was Christmas. She used to decorate the house immediately after Thanksgiving, forcing my sister and I to participate in traditions such as baking cookies and chopping down the Christmas tree. Christmas music would be playing at all times and the house always had a cinnamon or pine scented candle burning.
This year is the first year since her death that I've listened to Christmas music. It has just always been too hard for me because every time I hear those songs I picture her singing (the wrong words) at an octave far above the artist's while I slump in the back seat of the car, rolling my eyes. Some of the songs I could only listen to once because they hit far too close to home and some (like The Christmas Shoes) I will probably not venture around to listening to anytime soon. But I played a Christmas cd on several car rides and even forced myself to listen once or twice to songs that distinctly remind me of her. Praying all the while for Jesus to heal my broken heart.
A friend also lost her parent around the same time I lost my mom and I gave this friend some questions to journal through over break, with the promise that I would do the same. So this past week I journalled through the first assignment that I gave to my friend (and to myself). After pouring out my heart to Jesus for quite a bit of time, I realized that I never really allowed myself to process my mom's death. I never allowed Jesus to truly come into the situation. When faced with painful reminders, I would just say "Lord heal me" and I would shut my eyes and turn my attention away from the situation. Never giving time for it to sink in. Putting a bandage over a wound instead of stitches. Not allowing true healing to take place.
And it "healed" incorrectly. So now I need to let Jesus reopen that wound and stitch it up and let it get better in His care. I've known this for awhile but I've been too afraid to let Him open me back up. Too afraid to consciously permit Him to rip apart the fibers of skin that fused together in a very jagged and ugly manner.
But this season, I'm letting Him.
And it
hurts
like you
wouldn't believe.
This season I blew the dust off of the old Christmas cds and turned the volume up in the car.
There's a lot that's been resurfaced since I've let Jesus tear into this, including a relationship with my dad that needs a lot of TLC and mending. I realized that I've been "protecting myself" by not allowing myself to look at pictures of my mom, not allowing myself to hang out with people and their moms, and not allowing myself to talk about her. When something motherly comes up I get angry and turn the other way, pushing it out of sight and out of mind. Slapping a bandaid on it and changing the subject.
Most importantly, I've realized that I am (still) so angry with myself. Full of regret and sorrow and self-hate. I'm so angry for the way I treated my mother my whole life. So angry that the Lord allowed her to die before I got saved. Before Jesus transformed my heart. Before I was able (by His love) to treat her the way I should have for the (almost) 19 years I had her in my life. Every word I would say to her now would be a sobbing apology and a plea for forgiveness.
 |
| me & my mom at my 15th birthday party |
These are just a few things I've been learning as I'm allowing Jesus to rip open this scar once again. I caused this to heal wrong because I never dealt with it correctly. I never truly brought my pain to the Lord, even though I heard Him begging me to give my burdens to Him (Matthew 11:30). But this season I listened to Christmas music. This week I journalled the answers to difficult questions. This night I asked my dad to meet His girlfriend (whom two years ago I told him I never wanted to see). I'm handing my pain over to Jesus. Surrendering this dark part of my heart to Him.
I am moving forward.
The scar is being opened again.
And I'm asking Jesus to heal it.
"He sent out his word and healed them, and delivered them from their destruction (Psalm 107:20)." Even though my mishaps in dealing with my mom's death caused some destruction in my heart, I'm allowing Jesus to heal me. Through His word. Through His love. Through His truth.
This, friends, is a Christmas miracle in my life.
Monday, December 19, 2011
Talitha koum
God's grace--I will never fully be able to comprehend it. But yesterday I was having a difficult time even believing it. How can a God who knows all of my deep, dark secrets and who watches me fall over and over in serious ways love me through my mistakes? It was impeccable timing that on this day the sermon at church was about the healing power of Jesus and the topic of my bible study was His grace and mercy.
The number one thing I took from yesterday is that brokenness isn't healed overnight. Sometimes it takes a much longer route for Jesus to heal us, similar to how Jesus paused in his journey and delayed healing the dying child (Mark 5:21-43). The point is that the girl was still healed.
41 He took her by the hand and said to her, “Talitha koum!” (which means “Little girl, I say to you, get up!”). 42 Immediately the girl stood up and began to walk around (she was twelve years old). At this they were completely astonished. (Mark 5:41-42)
One day I will not be bound in these areas anymore. One day I will walk when everyone around me (including myself) expects me to still be on the floor from this sickness that caused my fall. One day the power of Christ touching me and speaking into my life will be enough for me to be completely 100% healed, astonishing the crowds around me.
Jesus was on a journey to heal this little girl and He is on a journey to heal me. Nothing will stop His determination to see me alive and free in Him.
4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. 8 Love never fails. (1 Corinthians 13:4-8a)
Because 1 John 4:8 tells me that "God is love" I replaced this passage in my mind today to say--
God is patient, God is kind. God does not envy, God does not boast, God is not proud. God does not dishonor others, God is not self-seeking, God is not easily angered, God keeps no record of wrongs. God does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. God always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. God never fails.
God is patient. He will wait for me. He won't keep a record of my wrongs but will persevere with me. He won't give up on my redemption because He trusts and hopes and knows that He will not fail in purifying and healing me.
Sin is not a surface issue. It comes from a deep point of brokenness. I sobbed yesterday to the Lord over a certain area that I am just so utterly broken in--an area that has been tormenting my soul since the day I got saved. I was so sickened by my sin that I couldn't eat and I couldn't sleep. It brought me to a point where I finally confessed to two friends on the phone all of the habitual, hidden sin that had surrounded my life for the past few years. But it's done. Step one in the process was admitting it out loud and asking for accountability. Satan will not use my silence over me anymore. There is only up to go from here.
I am broken but by His wounds I am healed (Isaiah 53:5). It's going to be a long, hard road but I took my first step on this path with God yesterday. I will continue to move forward because Jesus continues to move forward on His journey to heal me. He is in the process of redeeming me. One day I will be on the other side of this struggle.
One day He will say to me "Talitha koum!" and I will get up and walk.
The number one thing I took from yesterday is that brokenness isn't healed overnight. Sometimes it takes a much longer route for Jesus to heal us, similar to how Jesus paused in his journey and delayed healing the dying child (Mark 5:21-43). The point is that the girl was still healed.
41 He took her by the hand and said to her, “Talitha koum!” (which means “Little girl, I say to you, get up!”). 42 Immediately the girl stood up and began to walk around (she was twelve years old). At this they were completely astonished. (Mark 5:41-42)
One day I will not be bound in these areas anymore. One day I will walk when everyone around me (including myself) expects me to still be on the floor from this sickness that caused my fall. One day the power of Christ touching me and speaking into my life will be enough for me to be completely 100% healed, astonishing the crowds around me.
Jesus was on a journey to heal this little girl and He is on a journey to heal me. Nothing will stop His determination to see me alive and free in Him.
4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. 8 Love never fails. (1 Corinthians 13:4-8a)
Because 1 John 4:8 tells me that "God is love" I replaced this passage in my mind today to say--
God is patient, God is kind. God does not envy, God does not boast, God is not proud. God does not dishonor others, God is not self-seeking, God is not easily angered, God keeps no record of wrongs. God does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. God always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. God never fails.
God is patient. He will wait for me. He won't keep a record of my wrongs but will persevere with me. He won't give up on my redemption because He trusts and hopes and knows that He will not fail in purifying and healing me.
Sin is not a surface issue. It comes from a deep point of brokenness. I sobbed yesterday to the Lord over a certain area that I am just so utterly broken in--an area that has been tormenting my soul since the day I got saved. I was so sickened by my sin that I couldn't eat and I couldn't sleep. It brought me to a point where I finally confessed to two friends on the phone all of the habitual, hidden sin that had surrounded my life for the past few years. But it's done. Step one in the process was admitting it out loud and asking for accountability. Satan will not use my silence over me anymore. There is only up to go from here.
I am broken but by His wounds I am healed (Isaiah 53:5). It's going to be a long, hard road but I took my first step on this path with God yesterday. I will continue to move forward because Jesus continues to move forward on His journey to heal me. He is in the process of redeeming me. One day I will be on the other side of this struggle.
One day He will say to me "Talitha koum!" and I will get up and walk.
Friday, December 16, 2011
All I Need
Jesus,
You are my everything. And I'm sorry for the hurtful thoughts I've been having over the past week. And the terrible things I've said. And done. If anything I've learned that it is solely by Your grace that I am saved because on my own I am nothing short of sinful. I am nothing without Your Spirit in me. Weeks like these keep me in check that I am in such dire need of a Savior.
No matter how many times Israel wandered, You saved Your people from their own destruction.
No matter how many times I wander, Your love will always be able to redeem me. Your grace amazes me.
I love You,
Lyssa
You are my everything. And I'm sorry for the hurtful thoughts I've been having over the past week. And the terrible things I've said. And done. If anything I've learned that it is solely by Your grace that I am saved because on my own I am nothing short of sinful. I am nothing without Your Spirit in me. Weeks like these keep me in check that I am in such dire need of a Savior.
No matter how many times Israel wandered, You saved Your people from their own destruction.
No matter how many times I wander, Your love will always be able to redeem me. Your grace amazes me.
I love You,
Lyssa
Monday, December 12, 2011
"I'm not your teddy."
"Cause I'll be by your side, wherever you fall in dead of night, whenever you call, and please don't fight these Hands that are holding you; My Hands are holding you."
This song brought tears to my eyes tonight.
When I was a little kid my cousin Jill, who was 8 years older than me, was the big sister that I never had. We grew up basically within walking distance from each other and played multiple imaginary games that she created. My favorite was called "teddy bear," a game in which she would lay on the floor and pretend that I was her "teddy" and "fall asleep." I would squirm and try to wiggle myself out of her grip, all the while screaming, "I'm not your teddy!" I would make up excuses like "I have to go brush my teeth!" but they would just make her squeeze me tighter. I don't think I ever won the game (winning would entail my escape) because even when I thought I was free and would try to power-crawl away she would just reach out and drag me back into her grasp. The strength of a 5 year old is nothing compared to a 13 year old.
I tried so many excuses on Jesus these past four days. "I'm not good enough. I'll just fall short again anyway. I'm always going to struggle with this. I don't deserve Your love. I want to go my own way, do my own thing..."
The pathetic list goes on and on.
Truth is I was just trying to wiggle free. One sinful mistake caused me to forget about the amazing past month I had just hanging out with Him. It caused me to forget that His love completely sustains me and that I desire it more than those other things in my life. It caused me to squirm and fight and yell excuses that I'm not good enough for His love anyway.
But He just held me tighter. "Please don't fight these Hands that are holding you."
Truth is I'm always going to fall short. But His grace is enough. His love and His sacrifice is more powerful than all of my short-comings. I get in these funks and question my own salvation because I continuously watch myself fall over and over again in the same areas. But me questioning my salvation is me minimizing what He did for me on that cross. He died FOR ME. He died FOR YOU. And He covers ALL of my sin. ALL. OF. IT.
I need to stop focusing on how I'm falling short and continue to focus on how I'm falling more in love with Him. I am His beloved.
In my last entry I mentioned that I am living the greatest love story ever written. Jesus doesn't invite us into a story of us earning His grace by good works (or by lack of bad works). He invites us into a beautiful and holy relationship with Him--one where love is perfect and everlasting and consistent--without any doing on our part. It is all His doing. It is all His grace. It is all His Spirit that gives us life. All we have to do is embrace and accept it.
Max Lucado writes in response to Ephesians 2:7-- "God knows everything about you, yet he doesn't hold back his kindness toward you. Has he, knowing all your secrets, retracted one promise or reclaimed one gift? No, he is kind to you. Why don't you be kind to yourself? He forgives your faults. Why don't you do the same? ...He believes in you enough to call you his ambassador, his follower, even his child. Why not take his cue and believe in yourself?"
I might be wiggling and screaming at Him, I'M NOT YOUR TEDDY. I'M NOT YOUR SON. YOU DON'T WANT ME, but that just makes Him hold me tighter and whisper, Beloved what do I have to do to make you understand? When I look at you I do see my Son. And I do want you. All of you. Just as you are. My Hands are holding you.
This song brought tears to my eyes tonight.
When I was a little kid my cousin Jill, who was 8 years older than me, was the big sister that I never had. We grew up basically within walking distance from each other and played multiple imaginary games that she created. My favorite was called "teddy bear," a game in which she would lay on the floor and pretend that I was her "teddy" and "fall asleep." I would squirm and try to wiggle myself out of her grip, all the while screaming, "I'm not your teddy!" I would make up excuses like "I have to go brush my teeth!" but they would just make her squeeze me tighter. I don't think I ever won the game (winning would entail my escape) because even when I thought I was free and would try to power-crawl away she would just reach out and drag me back into her grasp. The strength of a 5 year old is nothing compared to a 13 year old.
I tried so many excuses on Jesus these past four days. "I'm not good enough. I'll just fall short again anyway. I'm always going to struggle with this. I don't deserve Your love. I want to go my own way, do my own thing..."
The pathetic list goes on and on.
Truth is I was just trying to wiggle free. One sinful mistake caused me to forget about the amazing past month I had just hanging out with Him. It caused me to forget that His love completely sustains me and that I desire it more than those other things in my life. It caused me to squirm and fight and yell excuses that I'm not good enough for His love anyway.
But He just held me tighter. "Please don't fight these Hands that are holding you."
Truth is I'm always going to fall short. But His grace is enough. His love and His sacrifice is more powerful than all of my short-comings. I get in these funks and question my own salvation because I continuously watch myself fall over and over again in the same areas. But me questioning my salvation is me minimizing what He did for me on that cross. He died FOR ME. He died FOR YOU. And He covers ALL of my sin. ALL. OF. IT.
I need to stop focusing on how I'm falling short and continue to focus on how I'm falling more in love with Him. I am His beloved.
In my last entry I mentioned that I am living the greatest love story ever written. Jesus doesn't invite us into a story of us earning His grace by good works (or by lack of bad works). He invites us into a beautiful and holy relationship with Him--one where love is perfect and everlasting and consistent--without any doing on our part. It is all His doing. It is all His grace. It is all His Spirit that gives us life. All we have to do is embrace and accept it.
Max Lucado writes in response to Ephesians 2:7-- "God knows everything about you, yet he doesn't hold back his kindness toward you. Has he, knowing all your secrets, retracted one promise or reclaimed one gift? No, he is kind to you. Why don't you be kind to yourself? He forgives your faults. Why don't you do the same? ...He believes in you enough to call you his ambassador, his follower, even his child. Why not take his cue and believe in yourself?"
I might be wiggling and screaming at Him, I'M NOT YOUR TEDDY. I'M NOT YOUR SON. YOU DON'T WANT ME, but that just makes Him hold me tighter and whisper, Beloved what do I have to do to make you understand? When I look at you I do see my Son. And I do want you. All of you. Just as you are. My Hands are holding you.
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